I'd Rather Be Jobless
by munching muffins
Summary: AU 6959 Mukuro x Gokudera, B96 Bel x Chrome "Rule thirty-eight of the employee manual: Never make a relationship with an opposite sex co-worker within the company's property." "I never said anything about equal sex." Crap. I knew he was astute. Crack.


**I'd Rather Be Jobless**, a 6959 fic

_by_ Jasune Hokairi

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own KHR. Big Time Rush, TV Tropes, and any other parodies used in this fic. All of them belong to their rightful owners.

_Warning:_ OOC-ness galore~

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BEEP

BEEP

Mmmh…

BEEP

I let my toes do the talking—shutting the alarm, I mean. I groaned as my own legs betrayed me and slid off the covers, resulting in my head meeting the floor. It's Sunday. Why the heck do I have to wake up at 6 AM on a Sunday? I'll tell you why. Take a hint. I'm dragging my own legs so I'm basically crawling on the floor to open a cupboard in search of a fucking business suit!

…

Okay, basically you're not wrong, but you're a little close.

I'm going to a job interview. Yep.

The life of a bachelor who recently graduated college and is now looking for a job. After all of those hard times studying day and night before and after high school has finally paid off with a 4.0 GPA and a party with your best friends and family—in my case, a miserable excuse of a tag-along friend and his girlfriend, only to have reality struck down on your back to find something to make some cash with.

I call it natural irony. It happens.

I quickly put on the suit, combed my hair a bit—having a choppy hairstyle is not that easy in the slightest, but it drives the ladies wild, and guys, so I've been told—, and hurried to look at my reflection in the mirror. Not bad. Apparently I could still pull a bad boy look with a buttoned-up shirt, a suit, and a pair of dorky slacks. Comes with a bonus if my eventual boss is a girl. I could just imagine her say 'Wrap him up, I'll take five!'

"Gokudera, you're up yet?" my tag-along friend, Yamamoto Takeshi, called from outside my door. I grunted a bit to answer him. "Well, hurry up and get your breakfast! You'll be late for your interview."

Oh, here's another thing. I'm not the one who picked this job. He did.

_What a thoughtful friend_, you might think. Oh, but you won't know that he's planning to make me run around in platform shoes everyday so he could claim the apartment and make kissy-face with his girlfriend. Sure, I get to work my ass off and he and Haru get to mess around on the sofa.

Whoa, kind of gross to think about though. Meh.

I raised my collar up to tie the necktie as I stepped down the stairs and made a beeline to the kitchen. When I got it right, I put the collar back down and Yamamoto had set down a sushi bento on the table. Okay, so the baseball idiot is not a lethal chef, but everyone gets sick eating sushi once a while, especially if that's all you've been eating for the last five months! I looked at my cat Uri, who had been stroking my calf ever since I arrived in the kitchen, and even she walked away from the sushi scent. She's a cat! She loves fish! What is this, a Martian had possessed my poor kitty?

I lifted her up and examined her. She scratched my face. She's fine.

Uri dropped herself from my grip and continued on her way as I walked over to the basin to both wash my hands and wipe Uri's scratch marks. Yamamoto had sat down on his seat and smiled at me when I did the same.

"Morning, Gokudera!" He greeted with that stupid airy smile again. "…and may I say you look hot."

Watch it, buddy. You have a girlfriend. I voiced this thought, which he laughed at, which I didn't appreciate.

"Aw, can't a guy just compliment his best friend's appearance?"

"No sane guy would call his friend hot." I said. I threw him a sushi as an afterthought. It landed on his forehead and I had to suppress a laugh and thought the best alternative was to stuff some sushi in my mouth.

Yamamoto had met me first in middle school as this tall, tanned guy who ran around with a baseball bat. I was there as a transfer student with foreign Italian race that apparently Japanese find exotic, resulting Yamamoto to send me love letters nearly everyday. If I was a girl, I'd be flattered. Too bad I wear jeans instead of a skirt, so I blow him up—not literal sense, as in my handmade explosives, duh—and walked away. The next day he declared himself bi and four years later he hooked up with my ex-ex-ex-girlfriend, Miura Haru.

We broke up a lot of times and I don't want to talk about it. She was too energetic for my liking so I came up with a solution of them getting together. You know, two weirdoes who thought they fit in my life got busy—ew?—and I was left alone without those two. My life was heaven when that happened.

People call it awkward; I call it killing two lovebirds with a slingshot. Dramatic.

"—you listening?"

"Huh, what?" I snapped out, chopsticks sticking out of my mouth.

Yamamoto had this raised eyebrow face and was about to say something, but let out a sigh. I felt victorious, until I realized he had removed the sushi piece and was back with the talking. "I said you'll have to be on your best behavior this time. Don't go around blowing things up or snapping to people. Flipping them off counts as this too." He said when I was to flip him off. What's with this guy and timing? "So, I just want to say good luck on your interview today."

"Then said so in the first place." I said, chomping the last sushi in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed it and gulped the water in my glass before running out and grabbed the motorcycle keys before running to the elevator and made another beeline to my motorcycle. I inserted the keys but the contraption just won't start. But that was when my phone rang with a text message. I flipped it open.

_Motor ran out of gas. Used it with Haru-chan yesterday. Sorry :) -Yama. _

I have never been so tempted to blow someone's face off.

* * *

><p>After the whole gas incident, I decided to catch a cab. I got bored during the trip so I thought of all the possibilities that I may encounter. Yamamoto had placed my interview on some company named 'Kokuyo Corporate'. Weird name. I tried hard not to think about the first name that sounds like a male copulation member in rapper style. I'd point it out, but I don't think this would help me get the job much less had me thrown out of there in classy fashion.<p>

The baseball freak had mentioned that the corporate sells pretty much everything; from cooking utensils to sex toys—don't ask me how he even get this info. The rest of them were just warning to be on my best behavior, not to snap snarky comments, blah, blah, blah, before I zoned out and eventually fell asleep. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Don't answer that.

When the taxi stopped I handed some bills to him before I stepped out and gawked at the building. Dude, this place is probably like forty-eight stories or something! Wonder how many dynamites can tear this baby apart? Wait, if I mix some nitroglycerin and ammonium nitric acid from my dynamites, I probably could sear them all over the building and then lit some fire, but I should get some chemical proof gloves first, because I don't fancy myself walking around like a talking gasoline.

Cue record screech.

Yeah, okay, I should be going. I entered the building and whoa, this place has the best hue of blue-ish silver I've seen! I made my way to the receptionist table before I could rant chemistry stuff again. My jade eyes traveled forward to the person who's handling the phone calls with her headphone. She seems nice, although I can't judge a person that well, what with I've only seen her for the last two seconds and I know nothing about her except she's saying 'Kokuyo Co, please hold' ever since I got here.

I cleared my throat and the brunette looked up, her blue eyes curious—wait I know this girl.

Isn't she Sasagawa's sister? The one who had a crush on me on eleventh grade? Ah, who cares.

"Yes?" she asked. I asked her—please note that I have to do this in a polite way and it's not working so well for me –where the interview was held. Sasagawa looked surprised for a moment, but she looked it up anyway. I think she saw my name and stuttered to me about the fifty-second floor. I personally am a bit offended. I mean, I still looked the same like I was in high school. How come she looked at me like I've grown an armpit hair?

I thanked her anyway and left to the elevator. Sasagawa shook her head and shuddered before getting back to work. Poor girl. She should know that I only love two things: UMAs and explosives.

Oh, and Uri too.

I clutched the files Yamamoto stuffed in my hand earlier this morning and walked toward the elevator. Never again would I come with slacks two size too small. In my defense, I usually wear jeans and I've had too many interviews for the week I barely had time to do laundry! The girls were staring at my legs and the guys were practically wolf-whistling at my butt! Geez, get a life, people! I glared at them and pushed the 'up' button, satisfied to hear a dinging sound and the other opened up. I made an entrance to enter; half-hoping I won't fall flat on my face every time someone stared at my behind. I should know. Rokudo Mukuro did that to me all the time.

…why am I thinking about this now? It was only way back in high school. The heterochromatic bastard chose to bully me lots of time! He called me hottie, kitten, stormy, grabbed my butt when I was in front of my locker, and wolf-whistled whenever I walked by. Heck, I glared so hard at him I forgot to watch my way and fell flat or trip over something. I'm surprised I haven't had my body parts all dislocated yet.

Someone cleared his throat beside me and I shifted my emerald eyes to his… umm, covered ones? "Where to?" he asked.

"Fifty-two." I said to him and he nodded, pressing a button for me.

When the elevator started to take off, I figured I should do something so I don't space out. Reminiscing about Mukuro in an elevator really doesn't sit well with me. In a field trip he joked about 'having fun' in the elevator. Since then I never wanted to be in the same elevator as him. Whatever, I'll blow him up when that happens. I took out my hand and offered it to the guy next to me.

"Gokudera Hayato." I introduced myself. I took a better look at him: nicely combed and straight blond hair that's really short but he let the front sides close his eyes. He looked at my hand and was probably blinking. His lips curled in what I could call as dubious. I blinked. What's with people today?

Eventually he grabbed my hand and shook, lips wide showing off his pearly whites. Really wide even. If I ever smiled like that, I'll call sick for face strain the next day. "Bel." He said.

I blinked, again. "Uhh, the elevator doesn't ring for another forty-three floors."

"That's my name, stupid."

"Ohh… your mom gave you that name?"

"No, the guy crossing across street with an amputee. Yes, my mom!"

Beat.

Okaaaayyy… Weird people.

I decided not to talk again but he peered up a question for me. "What're you in for?"

"Interview." I said flatly, leaning against the elevator walls. However, I couldn't tell what he was thinking, because he looked like confused for a second before nodding slowly with his mouth forming an 'o'. "Well, good luck facing the boss then." He grinned that Cheshire grin again before patting my shoulders. Eventually the elevators rang again and the sign above the door says fifty-two. Both of us walked out and I asked him where the personal assistant is.

He pointed at the guy who's furiously typing in a large booth. "I'll be at the accountant section if you need me." He said before walking away, but zoomed back to me several seconds later. "And believe me when I say you're going to need all the luck you can get." The blond guy zoomed out again giving me thumbs up before entering an office. I shrugged at this.

My platform shoes clicked against the marble floor as I walked to the booth. Some black-haired dude in a purple shirt was typing on his laptop (even his laptop is a blueish-silver) before he looked up to my face with his oriental eyes in a flat stare. He looked at me up and down before raising an eyebrow. I took this as a sign I should start talking.

"I'm Gokudera Hayato and I'm here for the interview."

The black-haired dude furrowed his eyebrows at me. "We don't have an inter—"he paused. "Oh." He didn't even bother looking my name up and reached over the intercom, clicking a button on it. "Someone here to see you. Get out of there before I bite you to death." He released the button and continued typing. He finished just a few seconds after and closed his laptop shut, only to pull out a book and read behind the booth. He looked like one of those girl secretaries who sat behind the counter and said 'I can't talk you because I'm watching my nails dry'. Fix him a pair of faux boobs, a skirt, and longer hair; he could probably pass as one of them.

I opened a question for him. "So… do you know what is the boss going to do when he/ she sees me?"

"I know what I want to do when I look at you." He said, taking his onyx-black eyes off of his book and stared at me up and down again in a glint (although amusingly miniscule) I could only call lustful. Is this place crawling with homosexual people or something?

"—and pass them as the accountant one. No, I don't want you to get them mixed up with the company's growth chart. How stupid could you actually get?"

I winced at the voice I've known far too familiar.

"Hayato?"

Too late. I turned my head to the side.

I'm outta here.

"W-w-wait! Hayato, wait!" He said, grabbing my wrist when I'm trying to run for my life. But heck, I couldn't—what else is new?—as he dragged me and clashed my back to his blue shirt-clad torso. "Where have you been? I've looked everywhere for you!" Mukuro said, this time hugging me while shutting off his phone with ease. What? It's not my fault he's five foot nine and I'm only five foot six!

My height is the average for women. Not cool.

"Trying to get away from you." I deadpanned, although it came out muffled because he turned me around so my face was then clashed against his chest and he rested his jaw above my head. My cheeks felt like they're on fire! Stupid hormones. "Now get off me, I need to see the boss."

"Kufufufufu," Great. Here comes that stupid laugh. It's high school all over again. "Can't you tell, Hayato? I'm the boss."

Cue record screech, again. Add a few crashing sound and roaring cats while you're at it.

My world seemed to have been crashing down. And it hit me: there was no interview. No wonder the people here got weirded out when I said I need to get to an interview. Yamamoto probably set this up! No wait, he looked sincere when he said got me something for a job—that and if he had been lying, I would know because the baseball idiot is pretty stupid when it comes to lying, not that he wasn't stupid in any other subjects. Mukuro was the one who did this! Counting by the evils he had been born with, it's genetically possible. His dad did not raise that boy right.

I thankfully managed to get out of his deathly affectionate hug, fumed myself to remove those itching blushes, and pointed glaringly at him. "I just realized. You don't have an interview, and no interview means there's no job available, which means I have no reason to be here."

"He's got a point there." Hibari Kyoya—I peeked his nametag earlier—muttered under his breath. Mukuro glared at him.

I smiled triumphantly, standing up straight never mind the tight slacks I'm wearing while Mukuro pointed his finger to almost everyone in the room. He did this for awhile until he stopped at Hibari.

"Kyoya, you're fired."

Beat.

Hibari looked a bit taken aback, but he closed his book, unclasped his nametag, and threw it to Mukuro's forehead. The black-haired ex-personal assistant headed to elevator, but not before grabbing my derriere expertly, what with the straight face and all. My theory about his homosexuality was proven.

"There." Mukuro said, with his smug smirk, as always. "One job available. You can start tomorrow." He turned around on his heels and went back to his office. Okay, what just happened?

He was the guy who grew up in Italy with me since we were in diapers and thought my hair was beautiful and wanted to touch, so he put his clay-covered hand on me.

He stole my first kiss when I was eight when we were playing hide and seek.

He was the one I got into a group with in a field trip and joked we'll have fun until I can't walk straight when I was eleven. I've developed a mini-phobia toward elevators.

He was the reason I moved to Japan when I started middle school! That time was heaven.

He got a scholarship to the Japanese high school that happened to be where I'm going. Sucks to be me.

He asked to give him a birthday present and that's when I put my nitroglycerin knowledge to the test. However, somehow the next day the nitroglycerin cake was traded with a strawberry one with a 'Happy Birthday Gertrude' icing on top. Several seconds later, my neighbor said her kitchen blew up. Meh.

He peeked over my chemistry test lots of times and groped me during lessons, just because my bitchy excuse of a homeroom got him to sit beside me. He probably bribed her.

He showed up when I was around Haru and said 'he's my boyfriend!' which is really untrue and draped his arm over my shoulder when she left.

He groped my derriere when I was trying to get books out of my locker and wolf-whistled when I tried to change out of my PE clothes!

And after all that, I'm working for him? My life is so fucked up.

…

And fuck you, that was not anticlimactic.

* * *

><p><em>DAY 1 <em>

Guess where I am right now?

Clutching whatever package the office mail boy named Colonello passed to me before he scadoodled out to avoid some messy-haired bitch in high heels—how she ran that fast in those is beyond me—for peeking at her boobs, with my trademark sour face on, in Mukuro's office.

Is scadoodled even a word? Well it is now. I'm not going to bother looking it up. Working with asylum escapees has me hypothetically dropping my IQ ten times by the second. Well, at least I've got better slacks now. Yamamoto had washed and ironed some for me yesterday before getting down the nasty with Haru. Sick-o-nasty. Bleh.

Trust me when I tell you the pineapple haired bastard has an enormous office. I feel like I'm in the White House! It's the epitome of my dream office! It even has a wall-sized window behind the desk! Although how he had all these photos of me hanging on one side of the wall is really not getting me. I mean, he practically has a whole bunch of my family photo book here. There's even one of me brushing my teeth with a sleepy expression, a bathrobe, and a shower cap. Why I look lovely.

What is he, a stalker with a crush? No wonder his employees freaked out when I came here.

"Yo, pineapple head!" I shouted, making him jolt up and mess whatever paperwork he was working on. Score one for the Chem nerd. Wait, that didn't come right. Che, whatever.

He glared at me for a second before shifting back to his mischievous smile and motioned for me to come closer. I did so and dumped the package on his desk, satisfied when I heard a loud 'thud'. I turned on my heels to turn around—

My so-called boss cleared his throat, a sign for me to pay attention (translation: _take an eye off of him before he said so will result in him reducing my pay_). I turned around again to face him and gave him my best fuck-you smile. The mismatched eyed guy seemed satisfied enough, so he took off his reading glasses—which I admit he looked hot in. You know what, forget I said that.—and slid it in his shirt pocket.

"Aren't you going to ask what's in it?" he asked, glancing at the small package.

"Is it a time machine that will fast forward to when you burn yourself with an incinerator because if it is, which button do I push?"

Whoa, burn.

He made chuckling noise and shook his head, much to my displeasure. "No, but you'll soon find out." He made that predatory glance with his red and blue gaze before grabbing my shoulder and dumped me on his desk, pinning both my wrists with one hand. He crawled up to the desk and moved all of the objects that were occupied in his desk before moving his face close to mine. Mukuro stared at my face for a minute before his finger stroking the lower part of my cheek.

"Beautiful as always." He breathed and closed the distance between our faces with his lips.

What the hell? Who gave him to inwardly suck my face off? Dude, get off me before I call 911 on you! Oh my fucking God, he's even making groaning voices while he's at it. I almost considered pushing him off, but that was when his pale hand sneaked behind my head and pulled my hair. I can't help it, so I gasped and he put his disgusting tongue in my mouth. His tongue weirded me out! It keeps licking on the roof my mouth and under my tongue when I tried to push it back with my own. I admit the kiss was than the one when we were eight and it was sort of enjoyable, so I closed my eyes and thought I'd see where this goes. The bastard made a laughing noise and smirked against my lips. He did that for a while before pulling away, but not before nibbling my lower lip and pecking my lips.

I opened my emerald eyes and panted. Well, you would have if someone suddenly kissed for let's say, two minutes? "You're an amazing kisser." He said, licking his own lips as if he was tasting my flavor. Ew. Wasn't it a secretary's job to make out with the boss? Oh wait, personal assistant is a secretary according to the employee manual. I'm dead! Oh, wait, wait… the manual! Yeah, that's it! Okay, let me remember a bit. Aha, I got it!

I raised a slim index finger at him that he stared pointedly at. "Rule thirty-eight of the employee manual: Never make a relationship with an opposite sex co-worker within the company's property."

He smirked, again. "I never said anything about equal sex."

Crap. I knew he was astute.

"Well, it doesn't matter!" I snapped, tugging my wrists and he eventually let go. "You can't just pin someone and take on a free sample!" Technically, I wasn't even aware that I just categorized myself with one of those meat samples on stores, but I couldn't care less. However, Mukuro just chuckled at my fiery comeback and slide his palm to my thigh.

"Kufufufu, I can and I will, Hayato." His hand went higher. Oh God, not there. "I have my eyes on you and you alone, Haya-kun, and I'm still aiming to make you mine."

He tilted his head and I thought he was going to kiss me again, so I was ready to close my eyes—and get rid of these stupid blushes, but he said, "I want you to stamp-reject these."

Beat.

"Fine." I groaned, grabbing the set of papers he had been holding. I walked out of the bastard's room, flipped him off—which he only smiled at, and went back to my booth. Okay, now where did they put that reject stamp…? Aha! Found it! Now, what's this? Chinchilla-shaped bottles? Okay, really?

"ATTENTIOOOOOON TO THE EXTREMEEEEEEE!"

Ah, lawn head. How I missed him. NOT.

"ATTENTION ONE AND ALL!" Having curious at this, I stopped stamping and looked over to older Sasagawa who was standing on a platform in the middle of the room. Wow, he didn't really need a microphone, did he? "SINCE THE SALES ARE GOING UP FOR THE LAST TWO MONTHS, BOSS MUKURO HAS REWARDED US WITH…" he rummaged into the package and everyone glanced, I myself am no exception. "…POCKY!"

I slammed my head against the counter when everyone cheered.

"Easy now." Lawn head said while distributing the chocolate covered snack to everyone who's lining up. "One gets one." Still, I guess it's nice something for a reward, so I ended up pocketing my reject-stamp and stood inside the line. When I got in front Sasagawa, however, there was only one pocky left, and before I got to take it, someone grabbed it before me.

None other than the pineapple haired bastard himself. Perfect.

"Excuse me, but that's mine." I tried hard not to curse while Mukuro bit the chocolate end and sneered at me. He chewed and swallowed, then put the chocolate end in his mouth with the pocky sticking out pointing at me. "Come and get it." He chuckled. I can't believe this guy!

I stamped on his forehead and giggled when the word 'REJECTED' was sprawled across his forehead before storming away.

* * *

><p><em>DAY 2 <em>

"You've gotta help me, man."

I looked up from the weekly schedule I was furiously typing. Oh, it's that blond guy again. "What is it, umm," I pondered for awhile, trying to remember his name. "Bel?" I said in a questioning tone.

"No, my name's ding-dong." He said sarcastically. "The prince will not forgive you if you forgot his name." Great. One more weirdo to look out for. I'll bet there's some poor soul somewhere playing some crappy BGM behind him like the one that popped up when James from Big Time Rush showed his face. In my defense, the baseball freak changed the channel when I'm trying to watch NatGeo. Oh sure, like latest news of UMAs isn't that important. Just wait until they corrupt your brain and turn it into goo—I was convinced that he was already infected by that part.

Albeit, it was nice show. It didn't have laugh tracks like other stupid comedy shows and it has pure gold comedy, although we were convinced there was some weird chemical thing going on around James and Logan, so Haru had to make never watch that show again. I pity him.

They said if I were a BTR member, I'd be Logan. Were they saying I'm short (yet smart) and loveable in guy-guy relationship (as in uke in Japanese standards)? No, I wasn't asking you, so just stop answering. Dammit, I said stop.

"So, as I was saying, you've got help me." I took a deep breath before opening his mouth again. "I'm going to ask out the Boss's sister so please lie to the boss so he won't catch me."

Whoa. Got it bad for the Boss's sister. You're in trouble, mister.

"You don't understand, peasant." Now I have a suspicion that I voice the above thought out loud. "She's the perfect princess! She walks around with her glossy purple-tinted black hair and perfect pale skin, like she never moved from her throne. She has huge violet doe-eyes, velvety voice, cute nose, heart-shaped face, cherry plump lips, and always wears a miniskirt everywhere. Don't get me started on her perfect breast size."

I'm not trying to. "Sure, I'll just tell the pineapple bastard your grandma died from schizophrenia and then got hit by a truck or something." Bel said thanks to me when the elevator dings and he paused on the spot. I looked up to see what he was looking and I think my nightmare just doubled.

She's Mukuro's sister, alright. I could already tell by her stupid pineapple hairstyle.

She walked with a high heeled flat boots and a miniskirt that showed a pretty good portion of her thighs, along with a long sleeved blazer that bore a bit of her midriff. She had pale skin, just like her brother and there rest of her pretty much the same from Bel's description of her on the above paragraph. I smiled—albeit forcefully—at her when she came to my booth. Really, I had to stifle a laugh when her face only shows to her nose. She is that short!

…Okay, stop playing girly BGM. Yeah, you with the green hair and freaky frog hoodie! Out!

"Umm, excuse me…" Chrome said timidly, trembling every once in awhile. I stood up, rested my lower arms on counter to hug my chest against it and looked at her. "You're not Hibari."

"Yeah, he got fired. What do you need?"

"C-can you p-puh-p-please tell Mukuro-sama I'm here?" I rolled my eyes. Yeah, no. I don't want to meet the bastard before my lunch break and if that bastard ever gropes my rear when I'm eating again, he's going to have more than a croissant shoved down his throat! I shifted my eyeballs to Bel, who was clearing his throat, and decided to help him out (translation: _slap his back so hard he was now coughing_).

He regained composure and laughed. "Ushishishi, hey there, Chrome." I rolled my emerald eyes again. Casanova.

"Umm, hi… Bel." Even she forgot his name she had to look on his nametag. Not many people deluded himself as prince nowadays.

"Guys, I'm honored you picked my booth for flirting, but I still want my paycheck, so pick somewhere else." I said, clearly kicking them out. Bel, however, smiled to Chrome as he dragged her back to the elevator and waved at me. Lovebirds. They make me gag.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, LAL, I DID NOT PEEK ON YOUR PANTIES!"

"DIE COLONELLO, DIE!"

Ah, yeah. Them too.

* * *

><p><em>DAY 3<em>

"Why do you feel the need to do that?"

Mukuro stared at the 'magic hand' **(1)** I borrowed (read: stole) from the janitor's cabinet to hold hazelnut mochaccino. Said fancy coffee was from Starbucks down the road, but he got a huge discount because he always bought his coffee there. Rich bastard. He said I should get something while I'm there, but what with the change that was left for me I was left with either a canned soda or water. I'm stuck with water.

"Giving you your coffee." Duh.

He had that raised eyebrow again. "Well, can't you just go here and give it to me?"

Heh, he's pissed because with this contraption I'm effectively a meter away from. I mentally pat myself on the back. "And risk being molested by you?" He grabbed the coffee before I could drop it on the desk. "I don't fancy being molested by my own boss, so no."

"Fancy?" He asked, his heterochromatic eyes looking amused. "What is this, Pride and Prejudice?"

I took back the magic hand and put it beside for protection, grabbed my water bottle and unscrewed the cap. "You wish you were half as enchanting as Mr. Darcy."

"Nah," He denied, taking a sip of his own coffee. "I wish you were beneath me, moaning my name."

"In your dreams."

"Every night."

…Pervert. I took a large gulp of my own water before starting to walk out of his office. Yeah, like I'm going to spend another minute who can't even remember to meet his own sister. By the way, the both called this morning—separately, of course. They both called in sick. Whatever, I'll bet he banged her until she passed out. Again, gross.

"Where are you going?"

I pointed at the door with my 'magic hand' and he nodded in understatement before getting up from his seat and walked toward me. "Why the hurry? Stay here with me and we'll have some fun." I shuddered at the thought before raising the contraption to him. Careful, mister! This thing has a pointy end and I'm not afraid to use it! But oh crap, he tugged it from my hand with ease and tossed it across the room and blocked my sides with his arms so I was stuck between the wall and him.

Oh my… since when did he smelled so nice? No wait, I have to focus! This is the guy who wouldn't waste a second to get in my pants! I have to think!

"I'd rather be inside your briefs, but who knows? Maybe I just like kissing you."

…What is he, physic or something?

"Nah, you just said those things really loud."

Well-played. Note to self: Practice not to mutter thoughts and kill whatever monkey that decided to mess with my brain!

Oh no, he's tilting his head! I have to think of a smart comeback! Something! Anything before this bastard has the urge molest me again! Quick, think of something!

"Umm…" I muttered. Smooth. "…your fly's open."

Cue record screech. I apologize to whoever grandma whose gramophone I broke.

He looked down and what do you know? His fly really is open.

Thank you, whoever who's up there who messed with my life but has upgraded some senses!

He let go of both his arms to zip up his slacks and I used this chance to bolt out of the door and closed it before he could catch me. When it was at least five seconds or so, I opened the door again, just for the heck of it. And look, there he is! Sulking, glaring at the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Ha! He's pissed again because I ran away. Oh yeah, who's top dog now?

"Oh, suck it up, you homo!" I cried out. He turned his head to me and I slammed the door. I just got the last word in. Oh yeah, I'm badass! I haven't even finished gloating him inside my mind with my victory smile when Colonello knocked me over while running and I fell against the floor. His 'excuse me', 'sorry', and 'I'll get some ice on that when I get back' didn't help either while the crazy-haired bitch continued chasing said mail boy.

…Bitch did NOT just step on my face with her high heels.

* * *

><p><em>DAY 4<em>

"LAL, I DIDN'T LOOK AT YOUR BLACK LACY BRA!"

"THAT IS MY BRA TODAY, YOU IDIOT!" The messy-haired bitch 'Lal' screamed, chasing him around the company again. "DIE!"

"I really did get sick, Gokudera! We were trying the roller coaster and I forgot that I had burritos for breakfast yesterday."

Uh-huh, and I think Mukuro's hot. Which I don't. Seriously. …What?

"I'm telling you!" Bel was telling me that he didn't sleep with the boss's sister yesterday. Like I'll believe him. Anyway, I just nodded at everything he said and continued to type. Bel soon left to his section and the intercom turned on with the bastard speaking, as if on cue.

"_Hayato, are you busy? I need your help with something." _

I punched the button on the speaker and put my hoarse voice on it. "Yeah, busy not talking to you. Get lost."

"_Your legs are circling my waist when I sucked your collarbone that I know always turns you on. My hands sneaked to your lower regions when you moaned my na—" _

"You don't have to turn all phone-sex on me, I'm coming anyway."

I got up from my chair and opened the pineapple bastard's door, which really were only ten footsteps away. My lime-colored eyes searched and found him perched on top of a ladder, waving at me. His slender finger pointed at a file on top of a cabinet—a large and tall cabinet, I might add. Seeing as he was already on top of ladder and still couldn't get to it, I saw the problem.

"Okay, get off the ladder and I'll pull you up." I said, walked over to him.

"How about I pull you up?" Actually I was avoiding having my legs perched on top of his broad shoulders and my crotch behind his head, you know, him being a nonchalant pervert, so I opened my mouth to refuse. "I'm heavier than you anyway." Good point.

Sighing, I climbed the ladder and Mukuro crunched down so my thighs were on his shoulders before standing up. It was easy to reach for file, if it weren't him groaning and being horny by rubbing my thighs. "You know, this position sort of turns me on." He said. I ignored him and grabbed the file, but the sound of a sudden blast made it harder. "What was that?" I asked, quickly grabbing the file.

"The explosive section." He said airily. Oh, so I don't get to bring dynamites here and they do? "Thursdays are their testing day."

I tried to get off of him, but the blasting knocked us off balance. Then, just then, he did something really stupid: he tripped. We both screamed when we landed (read: crashed) on the floor with him beneath me and my head on his chest. Whoa, this is awkward with a capital A. I would've removed myself from him sooner, but his body felt… comfortable. Unconsciously, I snuggled closer to his chest and felt him chuckle. Oh, great. What now? I looked up to him and put on my best confused face, not the deadpan expression I usually used on him, much to my own chagrin.

"What?"

"Kufufufufu, how should I say this…" he paused, trailing in fact. What's with business men and pausing anyway?

When he didn't answer, I put on my raised eyebrow expression. "…let's just say, I'm having a splendid time with my hands on your rear." I looked over my shoulder and there were his hands, both were squeezing and making circles with my ass all too excitedly. I could feel my face heat up again, but I didn't care! I dumped the file to his face and stormed off, slamming the door behind me.

After that, I heard the door creak open. "Nice briefs, by the way."

The nerve! First he got horny with my thighs, felt me up, and he stole the last line! Well, okay, fine! I'll just open the door, say a smart remark, and—what are you doing?

NONONONO! DON'TCHANGETHEDAYYET! DON'TCHAN—

* * *

><p><em>DAY 5<em>

I looked up from the report I'm typing. Yep, it's the blond again, with that Cheshire grin.

Beat.

"Your pet goldfish died."

"Thank you, simpleton! I mean, Gokudera!"

"FOR THE LAST TIME I DID NOT LOOK AT YOUR FRILLY STRAWBERRY PANTIES!"

"CO-LO-NE-LLO!"

What are they trying to do, make a brick joke?

* * *

><p><em>DAY 6<em>

I looked to my left: Bel and Chrome—possibly—flirting on the waiting room. I could almost hear him saying 'I love youuuuuuur skirt". I'm not wishing him good luck. If he gets married with her, he'll get a promotion, get to be a family member, and then gets all bossy on me. Nope.

On my right: Colonello and Lal, chasing around the building. As always.

Me: Getting a glass of water from a nearby dispenser. I'm starting to think that I'm the only sanest person around here. I walked back to my booth with a glass in hand when Bel bumped to me. Funny thing was the water didn't splash onto me; it splashed onto him. I smiled victoriously. Yeah, I should stop with all these smiling. It's like a bad luck call.

He wiped his hair from the water and smiled up to me. "Heyyyy, Gokudera! My best buddy, my thoughtful coworker!" You know, when he gets all touchy-feely like this, he usually wants something from me. "I need a favor." Told you. I stood there, preparing myself to make up any excuse for him.

"I need you to distract him for ten minutes today so he won't go out of his office." Say what? "You see, Chrome was supposed to be at the airport today for some surprise inspection at the branch company in Italy so I thought I'd make a quick date for her to remember, but I won't be able to if the boss takes her now so please?"

I rolled my eyes. I've been doing that lately, yes? "Fine, but seventy-three percent of your paycheck goes to me."

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'this is what I get for asking a peasant'. "Fifty-three percent."

"Sixty-five, but you're calling me when you're done."

"Deal!" He shook my hand and waved at me again before dragging Chrome to the elevator again. Then something clicked in my head. I called out to him, "how am I supposed to distract him in ten minutes?"

"I don't know! You're his personal assistant! Think of something!" He replied before the elevator door closed.

Do I really have to do everything? I can't believe I'm doing this…

_Fifteen seconds later… _

"Here's tomorrow's share of paperwork." I said, handing a stack of paper to him. That should keep him busy, I think.

"Okay, put it on my desk, I'll start on it when I get back." Mukuro said, getting up to put on his leather jacket. Oh man, nothing's working! Oh, I know, I know! I'll talk him out of it. I'm his personal assistant after all so I should be able to do it. I took a seat on the sofa—yes, his office has a sofa. How cool is that?—and arrange some kind of a dialog to come up with. I opened my mouth and braced myself.

"S-so, where're you going?" I asked, hoping he'll reply.

"The airport. I need to send Chrome to inspect the branch company in Italy." Well, duh. I already the answer, but I kept prodding.

"Why don't you send yourself?"

Mukuro looked over his shoulder at me as if he thought I was crazy. "If I leave, who will protect you, my dear Hayato? Besides, I need to be alert just in case you decide to give yourself to me." I rolled my eyes and huffed a silver strand out of my face. Yeah, like that'll happen. "Is that all, Hayato? I need to hurry."

Okay, panicking time. Plan A: failed! "Wait, Mukuro, don't go!"

Nice, I got his attention. Now think of something. Anything to save my ass for the next nine minutes! Come on, think! "I love your… leather jacket?" I blurted out. Yeah, that'll hook him, slick. But the good news is that I caught his attention. His red and blue orbs checked his watch before walking over to the couch and sat beside me, slinging his arm casually over my shoulders and blocked my exit with his arm touching the armrest.

"Really?" Mukuro leaned closer to my face, making me slouch on my seat and eventually my back was flat against the seat. "Tell me what else you love about me, Hayato."

I'm dead meat.

I got him to delay, alright, but I can't exactly play along with this scenario! He was brushing my silver locks, playing with the strands framing my face, eyes amused with expectation of me answering him, so that's what I'm going with. "Y-your eyes, they're… different." I blurted out, again.

"How are my eyes different?" I resisted the urge to snap and say 'Hello? They're red and blue for crying out loud!' because I know it'll be over if I do, so I just trusted my brain to blurt out everything. "T-they-th-they're different colored, respectively like ruby and sapphire." Well, my teacher did say I don't excel in poetry.

"Mm-hmm. And?" He asked, tracing my jaw with his finger. Normally, I'd flinch and flip him off, but I've decided to play along, so I just sighed at his touch and put on my seductive smile—like I had one. Better not go longer about his eyes, though. I'd blow my cover before you can say 'burned shish kebab'! "Your dark blue hair. It's…" Don't say pineapple. Don't say pineapple. "…exotic." Safe. He's still looking at me. Oh, darn. "You're tall, well-dressed, and…" Okay, I'm running out of compliments. Help me out here! No? I'm doomed. "And…"

The pineapple bastard nuzzled my neck, expecting more. "Go on. And?"

I'm officially brain-dead. I have nothing more to say, so I just fake-sighed at his touch, considering he was touching my thighs again too. I managed to stall and there's three minutes left so Bel should call soon. I turned my head to the side, pretending to love everything he did. "You're gorgeous…" he whispered, licking my earlobe. He's so into me, it's not even funny! He didn't seem to want to stop, he kept touching me everywhere. It's like he's doing my work for me! I looked over his shoulder and found that three minutes had passed. They're late!

This isn't good! They should call by now! Even Mukuro had stopped touching me and was preparing to get up. I have to stall again! "Mukuro, I…" I put up a fake moaning that seemed to take his attention, "I… love it when you kissed me." Whoa, where did that come from? But no matter. He's not getting up the sofa anytime soon, I think.

"That's it, Hayato, moan." He coaxed and I did as he asked, fake of course. "Doesn't that feel good?"

I nodded. Anything to stall this guy, even if it means playing pleasure slave with him. "I was thinking," he paused, tracing my cheek, "that I should leave you here in my sofa, on edge, waiting until I come back and make you cum. How's that?"

I can NOT believe this guy! He's just too kinky to torture! He might be estrogen brigade bait with a single target sexuality complex and an unresolved sexual tension but it doesn't change the fact that he's a jerkass that fits the category 'All Men Are Perverts' to a T.

Take that, TV Tropes!

Why yes, I'm addicted. Don't all of you? No? …well, too bad.

And finally, Bell called. I smirked when the phone in my slacks vibrated and pushed him off. "Sorry, not today." I haughtily got off the sofa to get out of the office before Mukuro grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. "You're not going anywhere." He said, smiling mischievously in what I could only call chaos. "I can't let you go after you've made so hard, now can I?" He pressed his bulge to my hand—I blushed hard at this—and I could only gulp that he really wasn't joking.

"Finish what you've started." He clashed his lips to mine, tugging my pants free.

* * *

><p><em>DAY 7<em>

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

My leg. Ow.

My other leg. Ow.

My poor, poor crotch. Ow.

I groaned and let myself slump when I got into my booth. It was only 7 AM and there's no one around yet, but if I have to see one more 'happy-fun-time' of Yamamoto and Haru, I'll gauge my eyes out. Yesterday wasn't really that peachy either. Basically, certain bastard of a boss was having too much fun that he actually forgot about his own sister and spend about three hours wasting me—hence my sore backside—before working on his paperwork.

Well, whatever. It's probably just a one time thing. He'll snap to his senses sooner or later.

I tell myself this over and over so I don't turn like one of those girl secretaries who hook up with their bosses and ended up pregnant with their child—no offense to any secretary who's reading this, only I'm no a girl, I don't have boobs, my boss has been wanting my ass since God-knows-when, and I can't get pregnant with him. If he does have AIDS however, I'm going to toss him to the highway from fifty-second floor, be it he died getting run over or his head exploded by knocking over a traffic light, I don't really care.

I lied. I care, just a bit. Miniscule even.

He's not actually a bad guy if you think about it. I don't fancy having my boss hit on me, sure, but he had that even before he became my boss. And all that perversion, I can't really blame him. He's a guy blinded by love and he had puberty long ago. He's a man and so am I, and men loves sex. Sex occupies our mind every eight seconds. So yeah, I really shouldn't go hard on him.

Okay, mushy time's over.

No, really. There's a banging sound somewhere around here. I looked over and saw a door with a chair blocking the handle. Why do they always make it so obvious? I walked to the said door—which had muffled noise that sounded like 'Bel, you son of a bitch, let me out!' and kicked the chair away. Lo and behold, the one and only bastard emerged behind the door, looking all flushed and let himself collapse on the floor. Well, good morning to you too, fucker.

He gave thumbs up and raised his head. "Where's Bel?" I shrugged. I just got here. How am I supposed to know?

"He and Chrome are somewhere in the building, so help me find them." Mukuro said. I was going to refuse, but seeing as he's my boss and my paycheck was still at stake, I nodded. "You look that way and I'll look that way." I went to the direction he ordered and opened some doors—all empty—until I became face to face with stairs.

Okay, think for a second.

If an in-love couple is running away from the girl's brother, where would they go? Down stairs, where they're probably making out somewhere, or upstairs, planning suicide by jumping off a roof?

…

This isn't the Romeo and Juliet era, so I opt for downstairs.

That and if I raise my legs more that I'm supposed to, I'm calling the ambulance to make me an amputee. Or maybe make myself asexual. Yeah.

On the fifty-first floor I came to several doors again, so I just opened up to see inside.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Bel and Chrome making out.

Empty.

—Wait.

"Hands up, you hooligans!" I said, effectively busting them. I turned to Bel. "You, stop banging the boss's sister."

"I wasn't banging her."

I ignored him and turned to the timid girl. "You, your brother's taking you to the airport right now so no more questions."

"I-I wasn't asking… any."

I realized I was making awkward assumptions, but like I said, I don't really care. My hand tugged Chrome's and dragged her to the elevator—she had been a victim of this for quite a long time. The blond followed us with his hand on hers and smiling genuinely at her—if I were a girl, I would've squeed, but unfortunately I'm not—as we walked to the elevator. That boy better not mess up something in the elevator or I'll really strangle him. Thankfully we made it safe and sound to the fifty-second floor, only to have Mukuro stood in front of the elevator. He smiled at both Chrome and I, but made a not-so-friendly face at Bel.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mukuro snapped at him. Ouch.

"Going out with Chrome." The blond said in a 'duh' tone, pointing at Chrome who stood next to me, shuffling her feet.

"Well, you shouldn't be! Chrome's not supposed go out with you."

"You never let her go out with anyone!" Bel talked back. He had nerves, man.

"How would you know?"

"I had a crush on her since fifth grade!" Point taken.

"She's a coworker! And better yet, she's my sister! That makes her your second boss."

Bel was about to say something, but he paused. A few seconds, he opened his mouth again. "Will you at least let me take her out before she goes?"

"No, I won't let her date some guy with schizophrenia."

"The prince does NOT have schizophrenia!"

"Says the guy who deluded himself as a prince!"

"Say that again and I'll cut you to shreds!"

"I refuse to be related to a knife-nut!"

He put his fingers inside his ears. "LALALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU, PINEAPPLE HEAD!"

They continued to bicker like this for, I don't know, ten minutes? Pass up some popcorn, please. But then, Chrome did something unexpected: She pushed him, as in she pushed her own brother, and like the idiot he was he did that stupid thing again: he tripped on the marble floor with his platform shoes, effectively rolling and crashing inside a closet. This turned to be good for the two lovebirds, but not so great for me, because, well… just guess who's the first person he dragged along with him.

I got up and rubbed the back of my head just in time to see the two ungrateful twerps close the door and locked it. I gasped and ran straight to door, banging it. "LET ME OUT!" I yelled.

"Hey, what about me?"

I gave him a once-over—not that I could see him, the closet is dark like that—before raising my volume. "HELP! I'M STUCK IN THE CLOSET WITH A RAPIST!"

He's facepalming right now. I can tell.

"We'll be back at six!" I heard them outside the door. "Later!"

This can't be happening. I can't be stuck with him. In a closet, even. I haven't had the pleasure of –censored-.

…since when was latte a bad word?

"Great. Just great." I deadpanned. "Mukuro, where are you? Come on, help me find the switch." I fumbled around in the dark to find a light switch, tripping over what I thought were a box or two. My hands felt around, pulling and switching whatever I can find and— "Mukuro, that's my ass you're touching."

"Kufufufu, sorry." He let out a laugh. "Couldn't resist."

I grunted and switched another button that I hoped to be the light switch. Thank God, it was! I huffed in delight when light came inside the closet. And whoa, this place needs some cleaning. There were boxes everywhere! Well, no time for that. "Mukuro, call one of your janitors to get us out of here."

"Can't." He said airily. "It's Sunday, their day off."

Oh, now he shows compassion?

"Ohh, I know! Give me a boost and I'll unscrew the air vent."

"I don't know the map for this air vent. Ending up in the dumpster so early doesn't suit me."

"Well, what do you suggest we do?"

He looked at me with those predatory eyes again. "Oh no. No. Nope, nu-uh, nein, and any other variations of that."

"Why not?" Mukuro asked, walking over to me. "We're alone in a closet and nobody's going to disturb. Besides, you look sexy when you're panicking."

"I AM NOT PANICKING!" I clamped my mouth shut. Stupid volume. Whose side are you on?

The pineapple bastard rolled his eyes and laughed his laugh, which I still don't appreciate. He pinned me to the floor—he really likes me on the bottom, doesn't he?—and examined my flushed face. "You're the only one I want, can't you understand that?" He looked at me with such a hurt expression. Well, that's a first.

"Of course I do." I replied in a soft voice, patting his hair tuff. "But you've got a lot of work to do, mister, before you start going mushy around me."

Mukuro sighed before agreeing with me and released his grip on me. "How about I open these boxes and see if they have anything to get us out of here?"

"That'd be great." I smiled genuinely at him. Once again, I don't know where that came from, but I just don't care. I waited behind him as he opened a box with his bare hands, leaning against the wall with my arms in front of my chest. He sure was taking his time. It was about fifteen seconds later that I realized he was pausing, so I decided to snap him out of it.

"So, what's in it?"

He looked behind his shoulder at me, smiled mischievously before holding up a… vibrator?

Oh, snap.

I snagged a box and opened it. Yep, all sex toys. This is the company that sells sex toys. How could I forget? I froze in my stance when I heard him chuckle.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yep." He said, turning on the vibrator and grabbing a few handcuffs. I groaned.

"MOVIE AT EIGHT, LAL?"

"GIVE ME BACK MY PANTIES FIRST, COLONELLO!"

* * *

><p><strong>(1)<strong> No, you chivalrous pervert, not that kind of magic hand. You know what, take a look for yourself (please remove spaces): http: / randomc. net/ image/ WORKING!/ WORKING!%20-%2006%20-%20Large%2011. jpg

* * *

><p>Just a little something I came up with when I'm on crack :3 Tell me whether you like it or you hate it so much I should rip it to shreds, burn it, and bury the ashes in the three separate continents.<p>

Peace out!

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